


A Godly Holiday

by SaucyWench



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: M/M, Mitchell thinks the gods are all a little crazy, yule celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 13:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench/pseuds/SaucyWench
Summary: For the GatheringFiKi 12 Days of Christmas event.
Relationships: Anders Johnson/John Mitchell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: GatheringFiKi - 12 Days OF Christmas 2019





	A Godly Holiday

Celebrating Yule with a group of godly vessels was interesting, to say the least. It was certainly nothing like the modest Christmas celebrations that Mitchell had grown up with. 

As a child, Christmas was a quiet affair, an exchange of small gifts among family members, then a shared meal and maybe a bit of dancing while it snowed outside. After he became a vampire, he didn’t celebrate holidays anymore. A vampire’s idea of a party was bloody, violent, and usually ended with dead bodies. He might still be a vampire, but he’d left that lifestyle behind. 

This, though? This was a different type of party altogether. 

Everyone had gotten together at Derrick’s farm for the celebration. The Johnson clan was there, along with the goddesses Mitchell had met. There were several people he didn’t recognize as well, and he had no idea the community was that big. He’d have to look up the Norse Parthenon later and try and place names with faces. 

There were tables groaning with food, and an astonishing amount of booze. Animals were wandering around, unbothered by the commotion. Music was coming from somewhere inside the house, floating out of the open windows, and Olaf had taken off his shirt and was dancing around a chair. 

Mitchell shook his head and turned around, intending to find Anders, but bumped into… “Is that a pig?”

Derrick was walking by, with his hammer in one meaty fist and a sandwich in the other, but paused to give Mitchell a disdainful look. “That’s the Hallowed Boar.”

Mitchell could hear the capital letters as Derrick said it. He nodded, as if any of this made sense. “Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me.” He gave the boar a pat and edged by. Derrick and the boar both watched him go, with similar looks of disinterest. 

“John Mitchell!” Olaf shouted, as he caught Mitchell up in a bare-chested, sweaty, somewhat fragrant hug. Olaf had obviously been smoking pot today. “I’m so glad you could join us to celebrate my victorious return.”

Mitchell extracted himself from Olaf’s embrace before saying, “I didn’t know you’d gone anywhere.”

“I went to Hel, my friend.” Olaf took a deep drink from the horn he was waving around in one hand. 

“Of course,” Mitchell muttered. 

Olaf wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “It’s fitting you’re here to share the feast with us, as one of the honored dead. Know that you are always welcome at my table, if you come in peace and friendship.” 

The words sent a chill up Mitchell’s spine, despite their friendly tone. Mitchell nodded and said, “Thank you, Baldur.” 

Baldur – or Olaf, it was often hard to tell – smiled and wandered off in the direction of the barn. 

Now that Mitchell was paying attention, he could feel the prickle of energy in the air that happened when the gods were more present in their vessels. It always happened when a few of them got together, but Mitchell didn’t know if it was a cumulative effect, or if the gods were paying more attention. Maybe a bit of both. 

He stopped by the punch bowl and got a steaming cup of wassail, despite the balmy New Zealand weather, and looked around. Anders wasn’t outside, so Mitchell headed for the farmhouse. 

Walking inside was like walking into a sitcom’s idea of how a farmhouse should be decorated for the holidays. There was a tree so full of lights and ornaments that there was hardly any green visible. A fire roared in the fireplace, and garland festooned the mantle. Next to it on the wall, there were stockings hung. At least Mitchell assumed they were meant to be stockings. One was a small ugly Christmas sweater, and one was a knee-high sneaker. There were snow globes and lanterns scattered around the room. The entire effect made Mitchell think of that “little confused but got the spirit” meme. 

Sitting in the middle of it all, in an overstuffed plaid chair, was Anders, with Michele perched on the arm of the chair. Mitchell watched as she pressed a glass to Anders’ lips, and Anders willingly allowed her to pour the drink down his throat. In the past, the intimate action might have bothered him. Now he knew that both Anders and Michele flirted as naturally as breathing. He knew where Anders would be that night and had no reason to be jealous.

Michele glanced over at Mitchell. The energy spiked in the room and she locked eyes with Mitchell as she leaned down to murmur in Anders’ ear. “You know, if you or your vampire ever decide to spice things up a bit in the bedroom, I’ll happily volunteer to be your third.”

Anders smirked up at her. “I bet you will. Mitch and I are good, thank you.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask. Or I don’t have to be involved at all, really. I could just watch. Think of me as a spotter, just for safety. You’d never even know I was there at all.” 

Anders threw back his head and laughed. 

Mitchell couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He stepped forward and said, “Such a generous offer. I think we can manage without the help, though.”

Anders’ smile softened at the sight of Mitchell. 

Michele looked back and forth between them before huffing and standing up. “If you two are going to be saps, I’m leaving.”

Mitchell knew Anders well enough to recognize that it was mostly Bragi who said, “So cynical for the goddess of love, Sjöfn.” 

“Also of lust, don’t forget. Lust is more fun.” On her way out the door, Michele patted Mitchell’s shoulder. She motioned to the ceiling and said, “It’s not real because of Baldur, but it still counts.”

Mitchell followed her gaze and saw a clump of fake mistletoe hanging from the light fixture. After Michele left, he took a large step to be underneath it and gave Anders his best come hither look. 

This time it was only Anders when he grinned and shot up from the chair. “You know you don’t need mistletoe if you want a kiss, right?”

“Right,” Mitchell agreed as Anders moved into his arms. “But it’s tradition.”

“Well far be it from me to break tradition.” Anders gave Mitchell a kiss, a gentle press of lips, before giving Mitchell a coy look from under his lashes. “I’m happy to continue this, but do you really want to get caught making out in Thor’s living room?”

Mitchell laughed and hugged Anders. “No, not really. His hammer is scary.”

“I could say so many things about hammers and sex right now.”

Mitchell shushed him and rested his chin on top of Anders’ head. He loved the way Anders felt in his arms, compact and sturdy. Anders might complain about being short, but he was the perfect size for cuddling. 

In a minute, they would have to go rejoin the party, and the craziness of gods and pigs and hammers. But right now, it was nothing but Anders in his arms, and it was the best holiday he could remember. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos, and comments! 
> 
> As always, I am over at Tumblr. Feel free to leave a prompt, tell me about your headcanons, or just say hi! 
> 
> [ [My personal blog] ](http://myseri.tumblr.com/)  
[[My writing blog]](http://saucywenchwritingblog.tumblr.com/)  



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